


Intrigued

by surveycorpsjean



Category: Kiznaiver
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-06-04 06:41:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6645565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/surveycorpsjean/pseuds/surveycorpsjean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The boy who feels everything, and the boy who feels nothing</p>
            </blockquote>





	Intrigued

**Author's Note:**

> takes place after episode 3 lmao

 

There’s something interesting about Hisomu.

Katsuhira isn’t quite sure what it is, really. Katsuhira isn’t used to the desire, the _need_ to connect. To find himself in someone else.

But he saw Hisomu running that day, a spark around orange irises, and he _saw himself._ Katsuhira Agata saw himself within another person. He doesn’t know what that means. Not at all.

It’s true that Hisomu is strange, but so are the other Kiznaivers.

It’s more that Hisomu is _interesting._ He’s pretty, obviously, or, at least, Katsuhira can agree that he’s aesthetically pleasing. Katsuhira isn’t so sure on his sexuality, or if he, in fact, has a sexuality at all.

But pure curiosity prompts him to invite Hisomu over, and surprisingly enough, Hisomu agrees.

“So,” Hisomu tips his head, “You don’t feel pain? Like, at all?”

“I mean, a little.” Katsuhira shrugs, disinterested. “Only if it’s really bad.”

“Hmm.” Hisomu pulls his knees to his chest, and rests his chin on his knees. “How boring. That’s not fun at all.”

“Fun…” Katsuhira shifts on the couch, an easy distance away from Hisomu, “May I ask a question?”

“Hm?” Hisomu picks at the frayed end of his jeans, “I mean, if you have to.”

“You get off on pain, right?”

Hisomu’s eyes shoot upwards, like he wasn’t expecting Katushira to put it so bluntly. He studies Katsuhira’s eyes, empty, and boring. Hisomu picks at the raw string, but grins this time, “Ha. Yeah.”

“Why?” Katsuhira doesn’t fidget out of nervousness, or shame. His question is genuine.

 “Mmm, don’t know.” Hisomu answers, eye’s flicking upwards, and away from his tattered hem. His grin is sly, and evil, “I just love it. I always have.”

Katsuhira’s eyes fall on the bandages around Hisomu’s neck. His mind travels down a path, dark and low, and thinks, was it a rope? Did he use a knife? Did he zip tie his hands, and shove them under his chin, tight, like a wound bowstring? Was the blood deep, and red? Did it ooze against pale skin? Katsuhira isn’t sure why these thoughts excite him.

 He remembers that he hasn’t replied yet. He swallows, “Oh, I see.”

“What?” Hisomu smirks, “Not the answer you were looking for?”

“I…” Katsuhira shrugs, “I don’t really know what answer I was expecting.”

“Are you curious?” Hisomu tips his head, “Do you even feel pleasure?”

“Do I…” Katsuhira stares at the wall of his home. He blinks once, and then once more, before turning back to Hisomu’s eyes, “I don’t know.” He’s jerked off like every other sixteen-year-old ever, but it’s not as great as everyone else makes it out to be.

Hisomu slides forwards, now intrigued, “You don’t know?”

“I might.”  Katsuhira says, “But probably not like you do.”

“Mmm.” Hisomu reaches down towards Katsuhira’s thigh, who isn’t surprised in the least. Katsuhira is interested- interested in the fact that Hisomu dares to touch him at all.

Hisomu presses his thumb and his forefinger against the barely-there- squish of his thigh. Katsuhira doesn’t flinch, but Hisomu does. He shivers a little, and looks up at Katsuhira with a smile. “So you didn’t feel that?”

“No.” He answers.

“Or this?” Hisomu presses his fingers up and underneath Katushira’s shirt to pinch at the skin of his stomach. Again, Hisomu shivers from the thread of the bond that connects them. Katsuhira is still interested. He wants to pinch his own thigh, and watch Hisomu shiver again.

“No.” Katsuhira reminds him, “I don’t feel pain.”

“No fun.” Hisomu repeats. “So if I kissed you, you wouldn’t feel that at all?”

Hm. Well, now that’s an intriguing question. It’s interesting in its own way, not in the _if sharks had legs, where would they go?_ kind of interesting. It’s more…exciting. Katsuhira hasn’t felt excited in a long time. He hums, “I don’t know.”

“Fufufu,” Hisomu laughs, very hyena like, but oddly seductive, “You look interested.”

“I am interested.” Katsuhira admits.

“Mmm,” Hisomu hums, which is something he likes to do, apparently. He licks over the piercing right above his chin, and tips his head. Katsuhira’s eyes follow the movement. “Do you wanna see? See just how brain dead the dead brain boy is?”

“I’m not quite sure what you mean.” Katsuhira replies.

Hisomu doesn’t appear to be in the mood to explain; instead he reaches around and tugs a little at the white and brown strands that curve and bow around Katsuhira’s neck. Katsuhira is compliant, as usual, and lets Hisomu pull his face towards his own.

Here, closer, in the air that Hisomu breathes, Katsuhira can really see his eyes. He can see the weird hackjob that Hisomu has gone at with his hair- it looks as if he really just cut it randomly, blunt edges of hair sharp and asymmetrical.

Hisomu is laughing as he kisses Katsuhira, a soft, “Fufufu~” being pressed against Katsuhira’s lips.

Katsuhira doesn’t close his eyes, but he’s surprised at his own reaction. Hisomu is surprisingly warm, despite looking so cold. His lips slide wetly against Katsuhira’s, that tongue delving to lick, experimentally. When Hisomu leans back, giggling, Katsuhira stares. He raises a hand, slowly, to touch at his lips.

They tingle.

He _feels_ his lips tingle. He can feel it, and it _feels good._

Katsuhira blinks, and traces his index finger across his lip, dipping into the slick leftover from Hisomu’s tongue.

“Well?” Hisomu tips his head, “Did you feel that?”

Katsuhira breathes, “Yes.”

“Hmmm.” Hisomu grins, “Not too brain dead, huh, brain boy?”

 _Strange,_ Katsuhira thinks, about more than one thing.

* * *

 

He asks Nico to kiss him, just because he knows Nico will.

Everyone else would make too big of a fuss- especially Chidori. But he _needs_ to know. Experiment. Understand what happened back at his apartment.

Nico kisses him- a sweet, little peck on his lips. She leans back, giggling, and happy, “Like that?”

“Yeah.” Katsuhira says, “Thank you.”

Nico bounces off, and Katsuhira raises a hand to his lips.

He didn’t feel a thing.

* * *

 

“Haa?” Hisomu leans up against his doorway, blinking, “You want me to kiss you again?”

It’s already summer, and the heat from the concrete below seeps into Katsuhira’s shoes. He answers firmly, “Yes.”

“Mmm, I don’t just kiss people for free, you know.” Hisomu plays with the fraying edge of his shirt. That must be the reason for its fraying, Katsuhira thinks. A nervous habit. Or just a habit. Maybe Hisomu doesn’t get nervous.

“You want me to pay you?” Katsuhira states. He doesn’t have much money- but he does, actually, have considerably more, now that he’s been under Tenga’s protection.

“No. I want you to hurt me.”

Katsuhira blinks, and Hisomu grins.

“I don’t think…” Katsuhira shifts, “I don’t think that’s a good idea. You know. You’re a Kiznaiver.”

That’s what Katsuhira says, but a very small, little teeny tiny itty bitty voice in Katsuhira’s brain squawks,  _say yes._

“So?” Hisomu raises an eyebrow, “It’s not like you’ll feel it.”

Katsuhira thinks of Chidori, and the other Kiznaivers. Minor pain won’t be bad, right?

“Just a little.” Katsuhira answers.

“Perfect.” Hisomu grins, more Cheshire, and less hyena. “Come on in.”

Hisomu’s apartment is battered, and worn, but Katsuhira isn’t surprised. Hisomu steers him onto a couch riddled with questionable stains and ugly rips. Katsuhira sits anyways.

Hisomu doesn’t waste any time. He slides in on the small couch, and reaches back behind Katsuhira’s head- and to Katsuhira’s surprise, he _feels_ it. He feels nails scratch into his scalp, and he feels Hisomu’s breath ease across his face. Hisomu kisses him, a little forceful, but gentle nevertheless. Hisomu lightly bobs his head with the part of their lips, before pressing back again. Katsuhira feels himself physically sigh, because it feels _good._  The slide of lips- the slip of tongue, the slick of saliva; Katsuhira feels it all.

There’s a sharp sting at his bottom lip, and Katsuhira is taken by surprise. It’s Katsuhira that gets the bite, but Hisomu is the one who lets out a groan, eyelids flickering. He leans back with a grin, “Ha. Sorry. I couldn’t resist~ nn.”

Katsuhira says nothing, and reaches up to press against the blood on his lip. He doesn’t feel it anymore.

Odd.

“You felt that?” Hisomu purrs, hands working at that damn shirt again.

Katsuhira nods. He’s so confused, but he made a deal. “I have to hurt you now?”

“Please and thank you.” Hisomu wiggles, “May it be of your choosing; a slap to the face, a cut to the thigh, a punch to the gut~ I’ll take anything. I have knives, you know?”

“Oh.” Katsuhira looks at him. He looks over pale skin and purple hair, and wonders how to hurt him. “I think I’ll just…” he lifts his hand, and looks at his own palm.  He sucks in a breath, and stares, dead, as he slaps himself in the face.

Hisomu is surprised, but nevertheless groans, head whipping back, his body sliding against the armrest, horribly lewd. His back pulls taunt, like a guitar string, and he giggles, fingers twitching at his sides, “Ahh…”

Katsuhira pulls his hand away from his face, still unfeeling, but is more interested in Hisomu. He has saliva running down his cheek, but he recovers quickly. “Ah, nnn, no fair. I told you to hurt _me._ ”

“It’s all the same, right?”

“ _Nn_ , I guess.” Hisomu sighs, and moves to stand, “But it’s less fuuun.”

 _Odd,_ Katsuhira thinks again, but likes it.

He moves to stand- moves to leave, because technically, this experiment is over; he got his answer, he got his data.

But instead, he says, “If I hurt you, will you kiss me once more?”

Hisomu pauses, halfway to the door, before turning. He grins, coy, and evil, “Katsuhira, the dead boy heh~.” He licks at that piercing once more, and says, “Okay.”

* * *

 

Katsuhira doesn’t understand.

In the upcoming weeks, Tenga gets in a fight, Chidori falls down some stairs, Nico bounces off a curbside, and Yuta gets slapped by a girl.

Katsuhira doesn’t feel a thing. Nope. Nada. Nothing.

But Hisomu comes over, clothes battered, eyes sparkling, and presses a kiss right below Katsuhira’s ear, and he _feels._  

He feels hands push into his thighs; hands that slide up to rest at his hips. The lips at his ear press down to his throat, unforgiving as he bites into Katsuhira’s neck.

This time, they both let out a groan. Katsuhira is surprised to feel that- and he’s even _more_ surprised to feel blood swell between his thighs.

“Hehe~” Hisomu licks over the bruise, “That one hurt.”

Katsuhira trembles, and keeps his hands strictly down by his thighs. He doesn’t know why this feels so good, and he doesn’t understand why his heart beats so fast-

But it’s addicting. Horribly, horribly addicting.

A grin presses into his throat once more, before popping back up, and into view.

“Felt that?”

“Yes.” Katsuhira answers, and refuses to move his hands- no matter how badly he wishes to brush aside the strand of purple hair in front of Hisomu’s eyes.

“Heh.” Hisomu leans up on his knees, and kisses Katsuhira short, and quick, just for fun, before leaning back. “My turn.”

“Alright…” Katsuhira says, lips still tingling and his neck still throbbing. He ignores the twisting feeling in his gut- mostly because he doesn’t understand it. “What do you…”

“Whatever you want.” Hisomu grins, “Anything. Anything.”

“Okay.” Katsuhira swallows. He shifts forwards a little, and feels like prey beneath Hisomu’s eyes. Slowly, very slowly, he leans down to where Hisomu’s collarbones are visible, right above the fraying hem of his shirt.

He opens his mouth, and hovers over Hisomu’s skin. He can feel Hisomu nearly vibrating beneath him, his hands twitching at his sides.

Katsuhira bites down hard, at least, as hard as he can, into Hisomu’s shoulder. The taller groans, head lolling back against that ratty couch. Katsuhira can taste blood. He moves back from the bite, and slides over a little to bite down again.

“Ffff-ahh-“ Hismou twitches, his grin wide, eyes shut. His hips seem to move on their own accord, grinding upwards. Katsuhira is intrigued; he wants to do it again. He wants to watch Hisomu’s hips wiggle and squirm.

“Hehehe~” Hisomu giggles. “Nn, that second one felt _really_ good.”

“Um.” Katsuhira blinks, “Do you want me to do it again?”

Hisomu sucks in a breath, and grins, “Oh? You like it, do you?”

Katsuhira manages, “It’s interesting.”

“Mmm.” Hisomu stares at him, before shifting his fingers up, and under Katsuhira’s shirt. His nails are sharp, and he chooses to rake them down Katsuhira’s chest. He only feels a slight sting, but let’s Hisomu do as he pleases. Hisomu gasps out, hips moving upwards,  nails digging hard enough to bleed. He grins, “Ooh, I knew it.” He slides his thumb across the little bubbles of blood that rise from the wound. “I knew it would look pretty on your skin, dead boy.”

_Pretty._

That word makes something twist in Katsuhira’s gut. He’s not sure what it is.

He suddenly remembers something. He remembers that the pain is shared _equally._

“They’ll know it’s us.” Katsuhira thinks aloud,  “It’ll show up on their wrists.”

“So?” Hisomu grins, and digs his nails into Katsuhira’s sides. They both shutter- but Hisomu more so. “Nnn. See?” Hisomu claws his way around soft skin, no longer drawing blood, but leaving red lines in his wake, “You like it too. We’re not that different.”

Oh.

_People can’t find themselves in you._

_We’re not that different._

Katsuhira shivers, and decides that yes, he actually is hard.

Hisomu is panting, just a little, eyes shimmery and gold, and Katsuhira immediately knows that he's addicted.

* * *

 

“What was that yesterday, Kacchon?” Chidori blinks, “I felt some weird pain in my neck, and my chest.”

“Huh?” Katsuhira deadpans, “I don’t remember. Are you sure it was me?”

He’s a liar, but it’s not like he’s never lied to Chidori before.

“Of course it was you!” She exclaims, “It was your number!”

“Oh.” Katsuhira blinks, “Sorry.”

Chidori sighs, and crosses her arms as they walk, “Well, Hisomu’s number came up too.” She shivers, “God knows what he was up to. I sure hope we can break that habit of his. I’m gonna’ be real pissed off if I have to feel him hurt himself all summer.”

Katsuhira makes a noncommittal noise, and keeps walking.

His mind wanders at Hisomu's name. He thinks of those eyes, calculating, and sharp.

Odd. Interesting. Strange. Pretty. Intriguing.

Addicting.

Add that to the list of words Katsuhira can use to describe Hisomu.  

* * *

 

Katsuhira doesn’t know why he keeps doing this; why he keeps going to Hisomu’s house, and why he keeps letting Hisomu into his.

Hisomu hasn't complained, so Katsuhira can only assume that he likes this too.

It’s just so fascinating; being able to physically _feel_ for those short moments.

They haven’t gone that far- it’s mostly Hisomu that decides what they do, and Katsuhira that decides how to hurt him.

This is kind of fucked up. A lot, actually.

But again, Katsuhira can't stop.

Somehow, they’ve shifted to Katsuhira’s bed. The sheets are soft, and Katsuhira draws his hands into them, feeling the cotton under his fingers.

There’s gentle laughing behind him, and nails drag up and down his naked back. This is the farthest they’ve gone, Katsuhira’s face pressed to the sheets, Hisomu biting into his shoulder. Hisomu makes a groan with each bite, and shivers with every drag of his nails.

“You know, you’re actually kind of pretty.” Hisomu pants out a half- compliment, “In your own weird kind of way.”

Katsuhira feels his gut warm at the compliment, and shivers into the bed.

Hisomu presses a kiss against the back of Katsuhira’s neck, and digs his fingernails into Katsuhira’s hip. The shorter feels throbbing between his legs, and is a bit disgusted at his own moan.

“Fufufu! You felt that one, didn’t you?”

“Nn.” Katsuhira answers, and focuses on _not_ drooling into his pillow. He’s hard, now straining against his jeans. It’s kind of uncomfortable, but Katsuhira isn’t going to say anything about it.

Hisomu pats his hip, and gruffs out, “Flip over.”

Katsuhira does it without any hesitation.

Hisomu laughs, “Ah, you’ll do whatever people tell you, huh?”

Katsuhira blinks. Well, he’s not really that wrong. “I guess.”

“Nn.” Hisomu grins, “So, If I told you to take off your pants, you’d do it?”

Actually, yes.

He nods.

Hisomu raises an eyebrow, “Would it be because I told you to, or because you _want_ to.”

Katsuhira understands his question; he’s asking about consent.

“Both.” Katsuhira answers, and reaches his right hand beneath his  navel to pop open the button to his jeans. Hisomu’s eyes watch him predatorily, his mouth pressed to a thin line, but his eyes dangerous.

Katsuhira slides down the zipper to his pants, and shimmies out of his jeans, pushing them down to his mid-thigh. His hardon is especially visible now, but Hisomu isn’t complaining.

The taller leans down and nips at the skin of his stomach, “You agreed to hurt me, right?”

“Mmm.”

“But you don’t like hurting me.” Hisomu states, “Or do you?”

“Not particularly.” He says, honestly.

Hisomu grins, “But I can hurt you?”

Oh. Well.

Katsuhira shrugs, “I don’t really feel it, so. It’s fine.”

Hisomu’s smile is wicked, and he purrs, “It won’t be that bad, I promise.”

“Okay.” Katsuhira shrugs. He doesn’t mind either way. He just wants more kisses- more touching. He can’t tell you why, but he does.

Hisomu takes both of Katsuhira’s wrists in one hand, and rings them high above his head. He slides up to kiss him, all teeth and tongue- it’s one of the roughest kisses they’ve had yet, but Katsuhira can’t complain.

Teeth bite at his bottom lip, and Katsuhira sighs. The taller shivers, hips suddenly rutting downwards.

And this time- _this time-_ Katsuhira lets out a groan, head slipping backwards, neck baring itself to the world.

Hisomu lets out a laugh, and grinds down once more. Katsuhira moans, lewd, and wet, hands twitching at his sides.

“How interesting~” Hisomu grinds against him once more, “You’re not sensitive to pain, but it seems like you’re sensitive to pleasure.”

 _No._ Katsuhira thinks, _Only with you._

He gyrates his hips against Katsuhira, and the shorter shivers, and draws his fists into the sheets. Hisomu is hard too, but that doesn't come as a surprise; Katsuhira just figured that Hisomu exists in a perpetual state of arousal. 

A hand slides down his chest, pausing over a nipple. Hisomu seems to hesitate for a moment, before pinching it, and pulling, hard.

Hisomu gasps out, saliva running down his chin. Katsuhira lets out a little noise from his throat, and his back arches off the bed. Hisomu pulls hard again, and they both shutter. Hisomu laughs, just a little, but continues to play rough, all nails, and teeth.

There’s a buzzing sound; Katsuhira knows what it is. It’s probably the other five Kiznaivers, calling to ask _who the hell just did that-_ but Katsuhira doesn’t care. Not right now, at least.

Hisomu leans back to shrug his own jeans off his hips- his cock is flushed, and wet, and it looks quite appetizing. Katsuhira is probably gay. Whatever.

Hisomu then turns to Katsuhira and pushes down his boxer briefs, pooling the fabric at his thighs. Katsuhira shivers under his gaze- it’s very pointed, and sharp. His eyes are very different from Katsuhira’s pale, empty ones.

“Mmm.” Hisomu hums, and reaches forwards to dig his thumb into the head of Katsuhira’s cock. They both give a little gasp- Katsuhira more so. “Not bad.”

“Um. Thanks? I guess.” Katsuhira blinks.

Hisomu’s eyes shine, glossy, and determined, and he turns to straddle Katsuhira’s thighs. Their cocks slide together- which is definitely amazing- and Hisomu returns to his previous attentions. He places his mouth back over that nipple, and bites, hard.

Katsuhira gasps, and Hisomu moans, loud. Katsuhira can _feel_ Hisomu’s cock jump against his own, and there’s something about it that really turns Katsuhira on.

His phone buzzes again on the bedside table. He’s _really_ not looking forward to the conversation they’re bound to have tomorrow- but he can only focus on Hisomu on top of him, wiggling, squirming, and biting.

Katsuhira is overcome with the overwhelming desire to kiss him again; so he prods at his shoulders, and pushes him up so he can lick into his mouth.

He feels him murmur, “ _So forward~”_ but kisses him back. Hisomu drives his hips down once more, and Katsuhira’s eyes about roll back in his head.

Katsuhira can't help but wonder if Hisomu actually enjoys this, or if he is only doing it for the pain.

But then again, if he had no interest in Katsuhira, he would just go ahead and hurt himself, right? 

Hisomu worms a hand between their bodys to wrap a hand around them both. His fingers are long, and warm, and Katsuhira trembles beneath him. Hisomu squeezes hard- hard enough to hurt- and Hisomu drools, sharp teeth barring in a grin. 

Katsuhira is growing close- he can feel a warm coil of pressure seeping from his stomach, down to his toes. Hisomu isn't looking at him, rather, he's just grinding against Katsuhira, and his own hand, oddly serious. 

Katsuhira hesitates for a moment, before he releases the sheets, and brings his hand to his mouth. He watches Hisomu work through half lidded eyes, and Katsuhira makes up his mind. 

He brings his hand to his lips, and bites down  _hard._ Copper fills his tongue, but he barely tastes it. 

Instead he watches Hisomu  _moan,_ loud, and lewd, and comes immediately on the spot. His grin is wide, and he leans back on Katsuhira's thighs to shiver, and gasp. Katsuhira sees his number glow on Hisomu's wrist- the wrist that's currently twitching, and grasping for something to hold.

Katsuhira, at that moment, decides to add  _beautiful_ to the list of words that can describe Hisomu. 

Hisomu gives a final gasp, before leaning back over to look at Katsuhira. Their chests are a disaster now, and Katsuhira is still hard, trapped between their bodies. Hisomu grins, "Ohh, look at you, playing dirty." 

"Was I not supposed to?" Katsuhira tips his head, hair smooshing against the pillows. Hisomu doesn't answer. Instead he stares, slowly bringing Katsuhira's bleeding hand against his own lips. He delves out his tongue, slick, and wet, and lathers up the blood, sucking on the wound. There's something really intimate about it- something that makes Katsuhira feel. His hips move up, just a little, bravely seekiing friction, and Hisomu's eyes drag downwards. 

He grins, "Ahhh~ can the dead boy come?" 

Katsuhira isn't going to answer that- instead he stares through half lidded eyes, and watches Hisomu wrap a hand around his cock once more. 

He must be practiced, for Hisomu seems to know exactly what he's doing; a thumb at his slit, a warm hand that drags- fingers at his thighs, at his balls- Katsuhira chokes out, body seizing, and feels  _everything._ He feels his toes curl and his bark arch and he feels his entire body burn hot. Hisomu is giggling, but it sounds faded, drowned by the blood rushing past Katsuhira's ears. He has no idea what sounds he's making, but they're probably filthy. 

The hand at his thigh squeezes once more, a thumb driving up and into his naked hip. Hisomu drags his slick hand against Katsuhira's chest, and sits back, obviously satisfied with himself.

Katsuhira isn't sure if he can ever move again; his body feels like led, and his heart is beating fast.

It's weird; his heart like this. He can't remember feeling like this- not when he was tazed- not when he was kidnaped- not when he fell down those stairs-

 Only with Hisomu. 

Odd. 

Hisomu crawls off of Katsuhira, probably in search of tissues. Katsuhira doesn't move. He doesn't move as Hisomu wipes him down, and he doesn't move as Hisomu pulls on his jeans, and he doesn't move when Hisomu leaves, closing the door behind him. 

* * *

They figure it out; everyone knows what Hisomu and Katsuhira have been up to.

Of course they would, they practically share a body now. They both get the lectures- they both get the disgusted stares and disappointed looks from Chidori. 

Katsuhira can't find it within himself to care. He nods at Tenga, tells him  _okay, okay, yes, fine, okay-_ but he knows they're noncommittal words. 

Of course, Hisomu can only smirk, completely shameless. The Kiznaivers brush him off as a lost cause, and eventually give up on lecturing Katsuhira too. 

Not even twenty-four hours pass until Katsuhira shows up at Hisomu's door. Hisomu doesn't hesitate to let him in, throwing the lock and pushing him up against the door. Katsuhira's head collides, hard, but its Hisomu who moans. 

Katsuhira has decided that he  _also_ likes Hisomu's moans. They're very lewd and loud and they make Katsuhira's chest warm and his knees shake. Hisomu drags his hand down to rub Katsuhira through his jeans, and he grins, "Hard already? I must be rubbing off on you, heh." 

Katsuhira blinks, and hesitantly brings a hand down to feel Hisomu as well. He's hard,  but...

"How?" Katsuhira brushes his thumb along the outline of his erection, "I didn't see your number, or anyone elses, pop up."  _There's been no pain shared through the Kiznaiver link._

Hisomu purrs, bringing his mouth up to nip at Katsuhira's jaw, "Well duh, I was thinking about you." 

Oh. Well. 

"Do you like me?" Katsuhira asks, his tone probably too flat for the situation. Chidori would yell, probably. 

"Mmm." Hisomu makes a noise of agreement, and presses his hand flat against Katsuhira's crotch- the latter shivers, head thunking against the door. 

"Oh. Okay." Katsuhira blinks. "I think I probably like you too. I don't know." 

"Mm, cool." Hisomu replies- Katsuhira is a little taken back by the casualness of it all, but he kind of likes it. Hisomu drags his hand up to pull down Katsuhira's shirt; his collar is already ridden in bruises and bitemarks that haven't healed yet. He giggles, a soft, "Fufufu," that Katsuhira has come to actually enjoy. He leans down, and presses his tongue flatly against one of the bruises. Katsuhira knows what's coming, but he still moans anyways; Hisomu bites hard into a healing wound, and feels Hisomu groan, hips shoving forwards to grind against Katsuhira's. 

 "Hehe," Hisomu grins, and watches blood trail across Katsuhira's collarbone, "You felt that?" 

"Mm." Katsuhira hooks his fingers in Hisomu's belt loops, and tugs forwards, bringing their hips back together. Katsuhira can feel himself growing bolder, more...more  _interested_ each day. There's just something about Hisomu, those shimery eyes, his long legs, his sharp teeth. Katsuhira likes it all. 

Speaking of sharp teeth- Hisomu brings his mouth upwards and kisses him, soft, and deep. His lips are stained red with blood, and Katsuhira decides to lick it off. Hisomu hums, a smile stretching through their kiss, and he pulls back. 

"Come on." Hisomu grins, and grips the bottom of Katsushira's shirt, "I have rope and leather and lots of fun things." 

"Okay." Katsuhira says, but finally, actually, smiles. 

 

 


End file.
